If a pair of local authors ever had a ghost of a chance at reaching the bestseller list, it would be Jeff and Michael Morris.

Just in time for the Halloween season, these two brothers from the West side have written Haunted Cincinnati and Southwest Ohio (Arcadia Publishing, $24.99), the ultimate guide to spooky true-life spirits, grave history and ghastly encounters in the Tristate. “The book talks about the REAL haunted places here,” Jeff emphasizes.

“It’s really cool to find an answer in the library. We talked to a lot of historical societies,” Mike adds about the intense research process that went into Haunted Cincinnati. “Every spirit that walks this earth walks it for a reason. Some because they died too soon.”

Jeff chimes in: “I really didn’t believe in ghosts to start, but then I saw one.” It was at 3 a.m. in the Showcase Cinemas in Western Hills, of all places, after Jeff, working as the night manager, had closed down the theater. “Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man in black walking across the lobby.” In the blink of an eye, Jeff recalls, the apparition was gone. Other workers there echo similar appearances, so much so that Showcase now mandates no employee can be alone in this particular movie theater — built atop an old farmhouse — after dark.

What other ghost stories and buried truths will you find in the book? There’s the lady who floats around the Eden Park gazebo — reportedly, the spirit of one Imogene Remus.

What about the water in the middle of Coney Island’s Sunlite Pool, which mysteriously splashes with no discernable source? “It’s almost as if there is someone playing out in the middle of the pool, but no people are there,” Mike says. Perhaps, as the writers suggest, it’s one last trace of Earl Gilpin, who drowned there in 1944.

Oh, then there’s the seemingly innocuous Anderson High School. Over the years, generations of custodians and teachers working late have reported hearing the sounds of children echo in the hallways, long after the place has been locked up. Perhaps they’re just former students, putting in a little overtime at study hall — decades after departing this world.